Loathing Letters
by ElsaElphieGinny
Summary: During the song 'What is this feeling', they start with their letters. But how- have you ever wondered about how Elphaba wrote her letter exactly? How Glinda and Elphaba happened to have the same beginning? Complete, oneshot, no spoilers.


**AN: So, this is my first 'Wicked!' story. I probably will not write too many 'Wicked' stories, but... anyway:DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'Wicked' by Gregory Maguire, I don't own the musical, or any franchise. If I did, it wouldn't have ended like that!**

I closed her eyes, pen lifted from the paper. _How _would I tell my strict father that I Nessa isn't with me? Nessa- the only reason why I was even allowed to come... I'd always secretly wanted to study at Shiz University, and I ws allowed on the conditions I looked after her. I was suddenly awoken from my stupor, the feeling that someone was watching me all too clear. I looked up, and my roomate looked down at her letter quickly. I carried on thinking too, before sharply looking up, to see Galinda staring again. This time, I refused to lower my gaze, but stared Galinda right in the face. Galinda sighed, and tossed her golden curls in that annoying, irritating way. For a moment, for the first time, I felt we shared something: the look of... _loathing_ on our faces.

"Can I help you?" I raised my eyebrows, in a hopefully off putting manner.

"No. I-"

"Then stop staring at me and sighing." Galinda gave a squeak of protest, tossed her hair again, then flounced out of the door, where she was soon greeted by her fangirls. Once the door clicked, I glanced curiously at Galinda's letter. What could that empty headed bimbo have to say about anything? But... she naturally had that charmimg air about her, that Father would adore... maybe I could pick up a tip or something? Hesitating, I slipped off my chair, went over to Galinda's bed, and picked up the letter. I read the first line.

**Dearest, darlingest, Mumsie and Popsicle,**

I snorted. However much Father would be pleased by Galinda, if I, Elphaba, called him 'Popsicle', I reckoned he might send me to an asylum. Plus, the introduction's not hard.

**There's been some confusion over rooming here at Shiz. But of course I'll rise above it, for I know that's how you'd want me to respond.**

I silently wished that Galinda would literally rise above it- rise above and away-, but didn't bother to sneer at it. I might as well write it down, I have nothing better. I crossed the room and started to write, before I bit her lip. Father would give me a huge slap if I wrote down 'of course I'll rise above it'. So how _would_ Father like me to respond? That, was obvious. No need for a question. I crossed to Galinda's bed and picked up the letter again.

**Yes- there's been some confusion, for you see, my roomate is**

I felt spite rise up in me. She didn't finish her sentence, but she was obviously going to write 'green'. I wish I hadn't interrupted her, and waited until she'd finished. Well- I might as well write a bit about _her_. Green, eh? Well, unfortunately for everyone with blond hair, she fits that stereotype. I'm not one for following stereotypes, but if I had the same relationship with Father that Galinda had with her parents, I'm pretty sure I would call her 'the dumb blonde'. I threw her letter down on the bed, before dropping on the chair and adding to it. I had literally finished my sentence, when the common fangirling squeals sounded from outside, and sure enough, Galinda stalked in, smirking. I didn't care- she had just helped me after all. I smiled sweetly at her, startling her, before reading over everything I'd written.

_My dear Father,_

_There's been some confusion over rooming here at Shiz. But of course I'll care for Nessa, for I know that's how you'd want me to respond. Yes- there's been some confusion for you see, my roomate is blonde. _

I gave her a smirk of my own, as the next words seemed to flow off the tip of my pen. Once I had finished it, Galinda (who had finished writing her letter, I'm assuming) was brushing her hair and humming in that dreadfully affected voice of hers. I took a deep breath and, not wanting to speak to her, yet wanting to get away from the person, left, meaning to come back once I'd visited Nessa.

**AN: So, yay. Comment, favourite and follow please!**


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